Journal of an African Cruiser | Page 7

the
scenery. Eighty or ninety miserable hovels, constructed of small, loose
stones, in the manner of our stone-fences, stand in rows, with some

pretence of regularity. Besides the Governor and his aid, there are here
five white men, or rather Portuguese (for their claim to white blood is
not apparent in their complexions), viz. the Collector, the American
Consular Agent, a shop-keeper, whose goods are all contained in a
couple of trunks, and two private soldiers. We called to see the
Governor, and were politely received; he offered seats, and did the
honors of the place with dignity and affability. His pay is one dollar per
diem. He has five soldiers under his command, two of them Portuguese,
and three native negroes, one of whom has a crooked leg.
The people here are wretchedly poor, subsisting chiefly by fishing, and
by their precarious gains from ships which anchor in the port. The
Collector informed me that there had been sixty whale-ships in the
harbor, within the past year. The profits accruing from thence, however,
are very inadequate to the comfortable support of the inhabitants. The
adults are mostly covered with rags, while many of the children are
entirely naked; the cats and dogs (whose condition may be taken as no
bad test of the degree of bodily comfort in the community) are lean and
skeleton-like. As to religion, I saw nothing to remind me of it, except
the ruins of an old church. There has been no priest since the death of
one who was drowned, a few years ago, near Bird Island, a large rock,
at the mouth of the harbor. At the time of this fatal mishap, the
reverend father was on a drunken frolic, in company with some colored
women.
The Cape de Verd Islands derive their name from the nearest point of
the mainland of Africa; they are under the dominion of Portugal, and,
notwithstanding their poverty, furnish a considerable revenue to that
country, over and above the expenses of the Colonial Government. This
revenue comes chiefly from the duties levied upon all imported articles,
and from the orchilla trade, which is monopolized by the Government
at home, and produces 50,000 dollars per annum. Another source of
profit is found in the tithes for the support of the Church, which, in
some, if not all the islands, have been seized by the Government (under
a pledge for the maintenance of the clergy), and are farmed out
annually. These islands supply the Portuguese with a place of
honorable exile for officers who may be suspected of heresy in politics,

and hostility to existing institutions. They are advanced a step in rank,
to repay them (and a poor requital it is) for the change from the
delicious climate of Portugal, and the gaieties of Lisbon, to the dreary
solitude, the arid soil, and burning and fever-laden air of the Cape de
Verds. It is a melancholy thought, that many an active intellect--many a
generous and aspiring spirit--may have been doomed to linger and
perish here, chained, as it were, to the rocks, like Prometheus, merely
for having dreamed of kindling the fire of liberty in their native land.
22.--We have spent some days at Porto Praya, the capital of St. Jago,
the largest of the Cape de Verd islands; whence we sail to-day. A large
part of the population is composed of negroes and mulattoes, whose
appearance indicates that they are intemperate, dissolute, and vile. The
Portuguese residing here are generally but little better; as may be
supposed from the fact, that most of those who were not banished from
Portugal, for political or other offences, came originally to engage in
the slave-trade.
Going ashore to-day, we beached the boat, and a large negro, with a
ragged red shirt, waded out and took me on his shoulders. There is no
position so absurd, nor in which a man feels himself so utterly helpless,
as when thus dependant on the strength and sure-footedness of a
fellow-biped. As we left the boat, a heavy "roller" came in. The negro
lost his footing, and I my balance, and down we plunged into the surf.
My sable friend seemed to consider it a point of duty to hold stoutly by
my legs, the inevitable tendency of which manoeuvre was to keep my
head under water. Having no taste for a watery death, under these
peculiar circumstances, I freed myself by a vigorous kick, sprang to my
feet, and seizing the negro by the "ambrosial curls," pushed his head in
turn under the surf. But seeing the midshipmen and boat's crew
laughing, noiselessly but heartily, at my expense, the ludicrousness of
the whole affair struck me so forcibly that I joined in their mirth, and
waded ashore as fast as possible. An abolitionist, perhaps, might